


Pyrrha Nikos - Arrested!

by Person_Who_Exists



Series: RWBY: Huntresses Arrested [12]
Category: RWBY
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blindfolds, Bondage, Breast Fucking, Choking, Collars, Come Swallowing, Creampie, Doggy Style, Double Penetration, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Foot Jobs, Gang Rape, Groping, Hair-pulling, Hand Jobs, Heroine Framed, High Heels, Impregnation, Kissing, Leashes, Leg Irons, Multi, Non-Consensual Groping, Non-Consensual Oral Sex, Non-Consensual Spanking, Oral Sex, Police, Prison, Prison Sex, Public Humiliation, Rape, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Smut, Spanking, Stripping, Triple Penetration, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-09
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:22:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25156192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Person_Who_Exists/pseuds/Person_Who_Exists
Summary: Jaune's crime-boss mother can't risk letting Pyrrha live knowing that her son faked his transcripts into Beacon. But, she also doesn't want to dispose of such an exquisite grandbaby maker. Her solution? Frame Pyrrha to discredit her, and ensure her sentence makes her Jaune's property. Though with Neo being the hired help, the Invincible Girl is in for a rough ride before she reaches her final destination, handcuffed the entire way.
Relationships: Jaune Arc/Pyrrha Nikos, Pyrrha Nikos/Original Male Character(s)
Series: RWBY: Huntresses Arrested [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1839919
Comments: 34
Kudos: 40





	Pyrrha Nikos - Arrested!

June Malachite Arc was not a complicated woman. She cared deeply for her husband, her sister, and their family criminal syndicate. But like any mother, her children were her greatest treasure, especially her sweet baby boy Jaune. So much so that when he’d decided to be a huntsman despite the myriad of illicit opportunities available to him, she’d helped him acquire the finest fake transcripts in Vale to get him in. In hindsight, not one of her wiser moves, as since he was now attending a huntsman academy, he would be liable of the criminal huntsmen laws were the truth to ever come out and sold into slavery. And his mother certainly would not allow that.

She kept spies in the school and entire precincts of Vale’s dirty cops on standby, making sure she was aware of every soul that learned about her sweet boy’s secret. Cardin Winchester did not live long after he discovered the truth and Mrs. Arc did not intend to let the other one have any more vitality. At least, until she realized exactly who her son had meant when he had written home about his incredible ‘partner’.

Pyrrha Nikos, top huntress-in-training in her class, former championship circuit fighter, and cover girl of Pumpkin Pete’s Marshmallow Flakes. And most importantly, the owner of a pair of wide hips that could pump out more darling grandbabies than June would know what to do with.

It was a frustrating conundrum. She couldn’t kill the girl without losing the potential grandchildren, but if she let her live, she’d be able to divulge the truth about Jaune’s transcripts at any time. And no matter how much her boy wrote about how Pyrrha would never betray him, anyone who wasn’t family, even such a wonderful potential grandbaby maker, couldn’t be trusted with such a secret. After all, Nikos’ first loyalty was ultimately to such silly things like ‘the law’ and ‘morality’ instead of family. Her Jaune was a cutie, but she knew for a fact he didn’t use that cunning mind of his nearly enough to be able to turn the girl like she had her husband. Oh, the sex they had when she’d convinced him to go corrupt for her was some of the best of her life!

… where was she? Oh right, saving her son’s skin.

Fortunately for both Ms. Nikos’ life and her own grandmotherly aspirations, there were other ways to silence a person. Discrediting them worked just as well, and given how gung-ho the kingdoms were about criminal aura users, there were few people easier to discredit than huntresses. And the famous were even easier to bring down. After all, the only thing people loved more than having their idols, was to see those idols brought low and disgraced. No one would listen to the girl once she was behind bars.

Framing the girl wouldn’t even be difficult. Resentful former competitors and sponsors angry that she’d left the competition circuit to become a huntress, Ms. Nikos had enemies in spades that would be more than willing to turn Remnant against her once June made a call to her sister Little Miss Malachite and had The Spiders’ network provide funds, contacts, and… _motivation_. Even innocent shop owners in Vale would fall in line without much fuss.

The hardest part would be making sure Jaune was the one to arrest her, and therefore be able to use the right of first claim. But, if she suggested a certain precinct filled with cops in her pocket to do his class field missions with, she was sure she could get him deputized and where he needed to be. Just in time for a certain ice-cream loving gangster to return a long-overdue favor to June, and Jaune to catch his partner red-handed.

Oh, she could imagine the grandbabies already!

* * *

Pyrrha Nikos had been having a dreadful week.

The price of choosing to become a huntress instead of staying on the fighting competition circuit had finally started to make itself known, with many of her former sponsors withdrawing their support. Pyrrha had never been one to spend a lot of lien, but she’d donated most of her profits to various charities, so it was still an unpleasant surprise for her and her mother back in Argus to have the rug pulled out from under them so suddenly.

To make matters worse, the media had caught on to the matter and questioned the various companies on why they’d dropped such a beloved star seemingly out of nowhere. The PR representatives, vipers they were, had seemed perfectly reasonable and professional as they’d subtly implied that Pyrrha’s behavior was somehow not what their employers wished to connect themselves to. Her own publicist might have been able to advise her on how to best counter the storm of slander, but she didn’t exactly have the money to pay him. Her mother’s rent had suddenly been tripled back home, so all their lien was going into keeping the house. So for now, Pyrrha would hold her tongue, ride out the mud that was being slung at her upon her pedestal, the dirty stares she was starting to get on the street and even in Beacon’s halls. After all, the opinions of strangers didn’t matter when she had her friends.

Though, due to their field missions, she hadn’t seen many of them lately. Ren and Nora had gone to an outlying village to shadow a town sheriff while Team RWBY had gone with Ruby and Yang’s uncle on a search and destroy mission in the outskirts. They’d all be gone for a week at least. The only reason she and Jaune hadn’t joined their teammates was that her leader had gotten an injury in the Breach that prevented him from making the trip. And Pyrrha was hardly going to abandon her leader, especially when it was a chance to spend some alone time with him.

They’d taken after Sun and Neptune and become junior detectives, joining a different precinct whose lieutenant was apparently an old friend of Jaune’s mother. The two of them had even been deputized for the duration of their time there. Though, Pyrrha found herself constantly frustrated that Jaune was often taken out on patrol with the lieutenant while she was assigned other duties, usually in the form of doing filing work alone in a dusty back room, out of sight and out of mind. Which she might have appreciated, it got her away from the accusing stares she often received on the streets, if it didn’t also give her almost no time to spend with Jaune.

It had finally gotten to be so irritating for her that she’d snuck out fifteen minutes before her lunch break and gotten a far too unhealthy meal to comfort her. She knew it wasn’t right, she knew she shouldn’t have done it, but she needed something to make her feel just a bit better after everything that was going wrong in her life.

Unfortunately, she didn’t know that much more was about to go wrong. Much, _much_ more.

When she returned to the precinct, two uniformed officers and a detective stopped her.

“Ms. Nikos,” the detective greeted. “Where have you been?”

Drat. She’d been caught. Most people would have bemoaned that they could do everything right all their lives, but be demonized the moment they slipped up one single thing, but Pyrrha was too ashamed of the fact that she had done wrong.

“I’m so sorry, officer,” she apologized. “I thought it was just fifteen minutes, but lunch breaks are scheduled so that everyone can eat while still doing their duty, and I abused that—”

“Ms. Nikos,” the detective interrupted, clearly not impressed by her paltry excuses. “Would you please come with us.”

Pyrrha got the sense that it wasn’t a request and nodded.

The policemen escorted her through the halls and took her inside an interrogation room. Aside from a metal table and a pair of chairs, the room was empty, a one-way mirror covering one of the far walls.

“Hands on the table,” the detective ordered. “Spread your legs.”

“Um, of course,” Pyrrha replied. She wasn’t sure why they having her do this when she’d just taken an early lunch break, but perhaps they had to be sure she hadn’t taken anything from the records?

She placed her palms on the metal table, her black leather combat gloves spreading over the reflective surface. She stretched her legs apart, her high-heeled shoes clicking across the stone floor.

The two uniformed officers came forward and removed Akouo and Milo from her hips, passing them back to the detective. From there, the policeman split up to search her, one going high while the other went low. Pyrrha couldn’t help shuddering in discomfort as the older men’s palms patted down her limbs, up her toned, gloved arms, and down her long, armored legs.

Well, discomfort and one other thing. But didn’t like thinking about that thing, or the slowly growing warmth it was stirring up beneath her belly as the officers continued forcefully searching her.

However, that search stopped when one of the policemen reached inside one of the pouches on her belt and removed something from it.

“I think I’ve got something, sir,” he said. “Looks like it matches the pictures.”

“Give it here, son,” the detective commanded, pulling out his scroll. “I’ll check.”

The officer passed the item to his superior, who checked it up against a photograph on his scroll. Pyrrha turned her head and got a look at what the item was: a gorgeous golden ring with a magnificent diamond in its center. It must have been worth a hundred thousand lien easily, more than enough to shore up her mother’s money troubles.

The problem was, she knew for a fact it wasn’t hers, and she had no idea how it had gotten in her belt.

A sinking pit crawled through Pyrrha’s stomach. She didn’t think this was about her taking an early lunch break anymore.

“Yup. It’s an exact match for the store’s files. The chip in the diamond matches the verification code they gave us as well,” the detective revealed. “Take her.”

The uniformed officers nodded, one of them quickly securing a gravity dust cuff around her wrist, disabling her aura and semblance, and making to bind it to her other arm.

Unfortunately, while most of her classmates would have described Pyrrha as ‘poised’, ‘demure’, or ‘obedient’, very few would have called her a doormat. She didn’t know how that ring had gotten in her belt, but she had no plans of going to jail for whoever did steal it. Imagining what the news would do to her mother, how the media would be on her like ravenous Nevermores the moment they learned her daughter was behind bars, she couldn’t allow that!

Thus, the Invincible Girl acted without thinking. Even without her aura and semblance, she was the best trained first year at Beacon for a reason. She pushed off the interrogation room table and swept her legs into both uniformed officers, sending them flying into either wall, while spinning herself into a combat stance.

Justifiably, the detective was quite terrified by this. He tried to take a step back only to smack against the wall. Pyrrha used his moment of surprise to dash in and shove her hand over his holster, trapping his service weapon. She then rammed her right arm, the one equipped with a bracer for her shield to attach to, into the man’s chest, in the perfect position to launch another attack if she needed to.

“What’s going on here?” Pyrrha demanded. “Where did that ring come from, and why was it in my pocket?”

“Because you stole it,” the detective gasped, sweat running down his forehead as his wide eyes stayed locked on her gauntleted arm. “Ms. Nikos, I understand the current dynamic of the situation, but I’m still going to have to ask you to please stand down.”

“No way,” Pyrrha replied. “I’m not going to take the fall for—”

The door to the interrogation room slammed open. Pyrrha pivoted her stance towards the entrance, worried that she’d have to fight her through an entire squad of policemen just doing their jobs.

However, only one came in. Specifically, one blond, scraggly deputy.

“Jaune?!”

“Pyrrha, wait!” her partner shouted, his hand supporting him on the wall as he panted for breath. “Don’t… don’t do… anything else!”

Platonic, and romantic, instinct took over and Pyrrha released the detective, rushing to Jaune’s side and helping him properly stand. While she helped him to his feet, the precinct lieutenant entered the room, surveying the laid-out officer and his terrified detective, who had seized the chance to draw his pistol and aim it at Pyrrha.

“Hold on, detective,” the lieutenant consoled. “Let’s not escalate this situation.”

“She attacked us, sir!” the detective protested. “She’s dangerous, with or without aura.”

“I didn’t do anything!” Pyrrha shouted. “You were going to arrest me for having that ring, but I don’t even know where it came from. Jaune, you have to believe me!”

“I do, Pyrrha. I do. At first, I thought they might have planted it on you, but…” Jaune, his face tinted with sadness, gestured at the one-way mirror. “The lieutenant and me, we were watching the whole thing. It came from your belt.”

Pyrrha paled. “But I didn’t… Jaune, I don’t know how it got there.”

“I believe you,” Jaune reassured her, gently clutching her hands. “I know you’d never do something like this.”

“That said, the detective is not wrong, Ms. Nikos,” the lieutenant interjected. “The ring was found on you, and it is not the only piece of evidence against you we’ve found. At this point, we have no choice but to take you into custody.”

“Other evidence?” Pyrrha whimpered. “What other evidence? Except for my lunch break, I’ve been in the backroom all day. There’s a camera there, you can check.”

“We have. We won’t get into any more specifics to ensure the integrity of the investigation, but suffice to say, I ask that you come quietly,” the lieutenant said. He nodded at Jaune. “We are all aware of the concerns you may have being a huntress-in-training, which is why I’ve brought Deputy Arc into this.”

Pyrrha turned to face her partner, her crush, and watched as his face warped into a regretful grimace.

She could fight her way out. Even with the detective keeping his gun trained on her, she was confident enough in her skills to be able to find a way, aura or not. But what would that really accomplish? She’d be on the run and look even more guilty. No, if Jaune was on the case, he and the lieutenant would be able to prove her innocence, and as long as she didn’t make this worse for herself, she’d be a free woman again with minimal scandal.

She nodded at the lieutenant. The older man shot her a reassuring smile and signaled the detective to drop his gun.

“Against the wall, please,” he requested. “Hands where we can see them.”

Pyrrha strode over to the stone wall, her high heels clacking against the floor. She pressed herself against the cold surface, her gloved palms laid over the rock.

Jaune stepped up behind her. His armored, rough hands reached around her waist and unclasped her belt, passing the strip of tanned, Argus leather off to the detective to be stored with Milo and Akouo until her trial. After that, he grasped her hands from the wall and pulled them behind her back. Pyrrha bit her lip, the heat within her warmed more than ever as her partner grasped her wrists, securing them in handcuffs with a sharp _click_.

“Pyrrha Nikos, you are under arrest for grand theft, assaulting officers, and resisting arrest,” Jaune pronounced. “Through your crimes, you have forfeited all rights due a free woman. Henceforth, you shall be the property of the Vale Police Department until a court of law passes your proper sentence. Do you understand your situation, criminal?”

The Mistral Champion gulped and nodded, praying that this would be a temporary situation. “Yes. I do, officer.”

“Book her, Jaune,” the lieutenant ordered. “After that, take her to the holding cells. Another officer will come by later and transport her to prison until we prove her innocent, or she goes to trial.”

“Yes, sir,” the young Arc replied.

He wrenched Pyrrha off the wall and escorted her out of the interrogation room and off to processing, neither of them pleased with current events.

The redheaded huntress-in-training said nothing as she was marched into the center of the police station and fingerprinted for her new criminal record. She tried to keep her head down, avoid the accusing, dirty stares of the uniformed officers, as if after all the recent news about her, it was only natural to see her in handcuffs. When she was positioned in front of a striped white wall and one of them held up a plaque that said _Prisoner 39652 – Nikos, Pyrrha_ , she’d felt like she’d wanted to die.

Jaune had snapped her mugshots with a scroll mounted on a tripod and hauled her away from that horrid place. He brought her to the holding cells and sat her down on the metal cot before locking her behind bars. With a final fervent assurance that he would get to the bottom of this, her partner disappeared, leaving Pyrrha to sulk in her captivity.

She spent hours in that cell, tears trickling down from her emerald eyes as the reality of her situation crashed down around her, framed and arrested in a foreign kingdom far from home, her own beloved partner part of the investigation. It would take time for the truth of her innocence to become known, and in that time the media would haul her off her pedestal and drag her name through the mud. Oh, what would her mother think of her…

The champion’s panic was cut off when a short, uniformed policewoman, with one pink eye and one brown eye, rapped her baton against the cell bars.

“Oh,” Pyrrha gasped, jumping to her feet. “Hello.”

The policewoman said nothing, merely shooting Pyrrha a gleeful, unsettling smile. She motioned for the huntress-in-training to move against the wall, which she did, and then opened the door. The uniformed officer pulled out a bright red ballgag from her belt, reached up, and shoved the shiny rubber sphere between the champion’s lips.

Her mouth now sealed, Pyrrha felt her handcuffed wrists gripped with surprising strength by the shorter woman and she was escorted out of the holding cell. The statuesquely stunning redhead was corralled through the police station and into a prison van waiting in the precinct lot. Perhaps unsurprisingly, there was already a horde of reporters there, cameras flashing as microphones were shoved towards her gagged lips.

“Why’d you do it, Ms. Nikos?! How long has this illegal behavior been going on? Is this why Pumpkin Pete’s dropped you as their mascot?”

“Does this have anything to do with your mother’s rumored embezzlement from Sanctum Academy!?”

“Were you always a dirty criminal slut?! Did you sleep with the referees to win your matches!?”

Pyrrha bristled at the accusations, especially the one about her mother supposedly embezzling money. Did they think she’d be so close to being evicted if she had stolen lien? Still, from what she could tell it was only fringe journalists and disreputable tabloids who were asking such questions.

Unfortunately, one of Vale’s most reputable reporters, Lisa Lavender had set up a camera crew and was filming Pyrrha’s walk of shame, seeming just as convinced of her guilt as the rest of the crowd.

The huntress-in-training was pushed into the prison van by the short policewoman and restrained for her trip to jail. A small chain attached to the wall was run through the Mistralian woman’s handcuffs, securing her to the vehicle while leg irons were wrapped around her high heel combat boots, binding her ankles together.

“This is Lisa Lavender, reporting live from VPD Fifth Precinct, where rising huntress-in-training and former fighting circuit superstar Pyrrha Nikos is currently being transported to Vale Huntress Correctional to await trial for grand theft,” the violet-haired journalist narrated. “Ms. Nikos was arrested by her partner, one Jaune Arc, after a stolen one hundred thousand lien ring was found on her person. The police have said that the investigation is still open, but with a suspect in custody and such damning evidence in hand, it seems inevitable that the Invincible Girl’s destiny is to be incarcerated for her crimes. The Council of Vale has already come down with an executive vote hereby expelling Ms. Nikos from Beacon Academy. Headmaster Ozpin could not be reached for comment.”

The short policewoman smirked at Pyrrha and slammed the doors behind her. Soon after, the police van sped away, leaving the mob of reporters in its wake.

Finally, Pyrrha broke down into sobs, her worst fears come to life. Everyone, from crackpots to level-headed citizens had already written her off as guilty, judged all that she had previously achieved to have been nothing but deceitful trickery from a thieving whore. Her life had come crashing down around her and she had no idea why.

All her friends were out of the kingdom on missions, they would hear about what had happened until her trial was already over. Jaune, the boy she loved, was her only hope, her only chance to be set free as the innocent woman she was.

If only the people who had framed her in the first place hadn’t already convinced him otherwise.

* * *

“She didn’t do it!” Jaune protested. “Pyrrha would never do something like this! There’s no motive!”

The lieutenant sighed. He, his lead detective, and June’s boy had all congregated in his office right after the blond boy had booked his partner, reviewing the evidence against Ms. Nikos. Jaune, unaware of his mother’s scheme, kept insisting that the girl was innocent. Which she was, but that wasn’t what Big Miss Malachite Arc wanted them to sell, so they wouldn’t sell it. Which meant that they had to convince the boy that his redhaired friend actually was a criminal slut, someone he wouldn’t have to feel guilty about involuntarily plowing the field of.

Fortunately, this wasn’t the first frameup that they’d done for the boss lady. And they could use the boy as a test case. If it was so good that even he could be convinced, then the public would lap it up without issue. If he didn’t buy it, they could ramp up their game or re-consult June on whether she wanted some miraculous, last-minute ‘evidence’ to exonerate the accused girl. No skin off their backs either way.

“She loves her mother, who’s going to get evicted soon if she doesn’t come up with a whole lot of cash,” his lead detective pointed out. “That’s motive enough for anyone.”

“I doubt that she did this with her head on straight. The heist was weird, but still too sloppy to have been well-planned,” the lieutenant assured his charge. “She probably panicked and did something stupid, like any kid would if their parent was in trouble.”

Jaune flinched and looked away with empathy. “Yeah, I know a bit about troublesome parents. But can’t you just let her off with a warning then? The ring’s back, no harm done.”

“That’s not how the law works. Motive doesn’t matter, a crime is a crime, and crimes must be punished,” the detective pointed out. “Her alibi of filing in the back room also can’t be corroborated.”

“She said there was a camera back there,” Jaune argued.

“There is. But it only has footage from her first few days in the back room,” the lieutenant said. “After that, the metal filaments inside the wires were pulled apart, scrapping the whole thing. We didn’t notice until we checked for this investigation though, there were no marks of outside tampering. Which would be curious if Ms. Nikos’ semblance was not--”

“Polarity,” Jaune finished with a frown. Good to know he knew about his partner’s semblance. Most of the world hadn’t been able to figure it out from her competition days, but Beacon students were required to submit their capabilities to a sealed registry the police could access, just in case any of them ever went back. Or in this case, appeared to. “None of this proves someone didn’t plant the ring on her. You said you had other evidence against her? Let me see it.”

The lieutenant nodded and raised his scroll, bringing up the security footage they had of the theft of the ring from a small-time jewelry store whose owner owed Big Miss Malachite a hefty debt. Specifically, of the metal latch to the display case coming undone by itself and the ring floating out of the store to the alley next door.

“What happened?” Jaune demanded. “Where’d it go? Pyrrha wasn’t even there—”

“A blind spot on that camera,” the lieutenant explained, flicking to the next video. “Fortunately, the owner had recently installed another to cover it.”

The next footage played, showing the ring floating out into the alley… and into the waiting hand of Pyrrha, who proceeded to stow it away in her belt and stride away.

Jaune’s face was bone white. “That’s… it’s got to be a trick. Some kind of illusion semblance.”

“If it was a security guard, that might be possible,” the detective conceded. “But there doesn’t exist a semblance that can fool an artificial camera.”

At least, not on record. It was only a small and select group of people in the underworld that knew the full, frankly absurd capabilities of Neopolitan’s semblance, allowing her to cast a perfect illusion over a space while making herself invisible at the same time. She’d taken the ring from the case and created the frameup scene at the same time, slipping it into Nikos’ pocket while she was on her lunch break. The lieutenant didn’t know what favor she owed June that she did this, or if she was just bored with Torchwick locked up after the Breach, but he knew better than to waste the Ice Cream Killer’s time and effort. She was infamous for her sadistic tendencies and he didn’t want to end up in her crosshairs. So he had to make sure that Jaune bought his partner’s guilt.

He placed a fatherly hand on the young man’s shoulder. “Jaune, I know you want to believe in her. It speaks well of your character that you’re so loyal. But sometimes the people we care about, the people we think the world of, make mistakes. It’s tragic, and it doesn’t mean Pyrrha’s a bad person, but it does make her a criminal. She can’t just walk free.”

“She’ll be enslaved,” Jaune muttered.

“That was the risk she accepted when she signed up for Beacon. Huntsmen and huntresses are multitudes more powerful than ordinary people, so they have to be held accountable. At the very least, the right of first claim will make sure she’s yours,” he clapped the blond on the back. “Head back to your school, fill out any paperwork this situation requires and get a good night’s sleep. We can continue the investigation in the morning, whether it ends one way or the other.”

“Yeah… yeah, that’s probably… for the best,” Jaune muttered, glaring at the image of Pyrrha on the security footage. “Good night, lieutenant.”

“Good night, Jaune.”

After the boy left, the lieutenant leaned back against his desk and sighed. “Is everything going according to plan?”

His detective nodded. “The case is airtight. We called down the media and everyone from the tabloids, to Lisa Lavender, to the freaking council are all calling her guilty. Relax, boss. Neo’s taken her to prison, and before the end of the week it’ll be her new home.”

“I know, I know. It’s just when June sends down orders, I always get terrified—” the lieutenant froze. “You said _Neo_ took her to prison?”

“Yeah, she insisted. And I’m sure as hell not going to contradict Neopolitan. Would you?”

“No way in hell.”

Neopolitan knew better than to cross Big Miss Malachite outright, so whatever she was planning must have been within the mob boss’s commands. But still, if she had some plan for Pyrrha that played into her wicked, sadistic thrills…

That poor girl.

* * *

Pyrrha thought she’d already been put through all she could this day. She was wrong.

When she’d arrived at Vale Huntress Correctional, the short policewoman had singlehandedly escorted her out of the police van and hauled her through the dark halls of the prison by her handcuffed arms, her bound combat heels clacking as she shuffled across the stone floor. Strangely, the pink and brown-eyed woman pulled her past all the registration areas, the guards giving her a wide breadth until at last, the redheaded huntress-in-training was dragged into a secluded gen. pop. cell block.

“What ihs tihs?” Pyrrha inquired through her gagged lips, her eyes flickering through the various burly convicted huntsman (despite the name, the facility housed both genders) contained behind their barred cells. The huntsmen, all wearing bright orange prison jumpsuits, all began to turn and take notice of the new arrival.

“Hey! Is that Pyrrha Nikos?”

“What’s that Mistral tart doing here?”

“Who cares! Looks like she’s all tied up!”

“Really? Oh man, I’d love to go a few rounds with her like that, if you know what I mean!”

Pyrrha very much did know what he meant and she had no intention of indulging her convicted fans. She whirled around to run off back the way she came--

Only for the policewoman who’d brought her there to slide the barred cellblock doors closed, locking them as she went. The Mistral Champion’s emerald eyes widened at the act, only growing bigger when the officer pulled out her scroll and hit a button.

All at once, every cell in the block swung wide open. The prisoners within them tentatively approached the doors, but soon after decided that it was no trick. They grinned down at Pyrrha, rushing down towards her position.

The redheaded woman pressed her body against the bars of the cell block, terrified tears falling from her eyes as she pleaded with her jailer. The policewoman merely shot her a sadistic smile, raising her scroll to record what came after and slipping a black leather slave collar, fitted with miniature gravity dust matrixes to cancel aura, around Pyrrha’s neck, sealing away her powers forever.

That was when the mob arrived. At least two dozen prisoners wrapped their hands around Pyrrha’s body, dragging the bound huntress away from cell doors and lifting her horizontal into the air. The young woman squealed through her ballgag as the muscled men began stripping away her clothing.

Her golden necklace and tiara, both gifts from her mother, were the first to go, course fingers gathering around their clasps, loosened during her processing, and tearing them from her neck and scalp. One of the points of her crown even caught her hair tie on its way to being tossed aside, snapping her simple and elegant ponytail and setting free her vibrant scarlet mane, the strands of which the convicts proceeded to pull at, sending surges of pain through Pyrrha’s scalp.

Next, they somehow snapped her handcuffs off (Pyrrha would later note that none of them were wearing any kind of aura canceling restraints) and pulled her arms out to either side of her. Her bracer that Milo connected to was torn off her forearm, the convicts’ fingers slipping under the tops of her long black gloves and slowly tugging them down her arms, their nails tickling the champion’s pale, pristine skin as they were pulled away.

With her belt already having been removed by Jaune at the police station, it was a simple matter for them to undo the red sash at her waist, her short brown mini skirt under it swiftly unzipped and pulled away from her body, the cold prison air washing over her exposed bum, only her thin crimson panties remaining to shield her. From there, the criminals went up, their fingers twisting away the knots that bound her armored bronze corset, leaving only her bra over her chest, though that was quickly snapped off as well.

The convicted huntsmen sniggered at her bare breasts, their fingers reaching out to paw and fondle the pale orbs. Pyrrha squirmed under their torments. Her bust had always been second only to Yang’s in Beacon, but she wasn’t used to such rampant abuse being lobbed on them, and even as the heat in privates soared to new heights, the ungodly terror at the reality of the situation, at her oncoming _rape_ , keeping her struggling in her captors’ grasp. Unfortunately, that struggling not only proved futile against the inmates’ aura enhanced strength, but only caused her naked tits to bounce across her chest, her pink teats attracting course, criminal fingers to pinch them tight.

“Look at that!” the ringleader, a scarred man with a thick black beard, chortled. “The Mistral whore can’t wait to get this match started either!”

“Noh!” Pyrrha shouted through her ballgag. “Plehse! Dohn’t doo tihs!”

But they didn’t care for her protests and no one was coming to save her. Most of them already had their dicks out, stroking the phalluses to hardness while the faction of the mob still pawing at her flesh snapped her legs irons off with their strength and began stripping down her legs.

A pair of hands gripped her brown high heel boots tight and shimmed them down her feet, the snug footwear taking a few seconds to be slipped off her ankles. From there, the bronze armored greaves coating her legs had their latches undone and their metal bodies chucked off onto the cellblock floor. All that was left was her brown thigh-high stockings, and her captors’ excited leers told Pyrrha that they wouldn’t last long.

Course fingers reached into the opening of the thin fabric and slowly curled them down her exquisite, muscular legs. Their compatriots reached in and squeezed every scrap of her pale, meaty thighs that was unveiled like a bride at a wedding, except this was far from a day of bliss. Finally, her stockings reached the end of her leg and were rolled off her feet, multiple convicts’ hand gripping her ankles just as her toes reached for their newfound freedom.

The bastards moved in then. The ringleader was the first, licking his tongue over his pointer and middle fingers and then shoving them into Pyrrha’s pussy and asshole, the Mistral Champion squealing as her folds and sphincter screamed at the invasion. Another huntsman approached her head and unstrapped her ballgag from her mouth. The arrested huntress-in-training barely had time to widen her mouth in surprise before the man’s cock was rammed down her gullet. The redhead was too terrified to bite down, merely using her tongue to lather her rapist’s bulbous tip in wet saliva, her nose constantly clapping against his pelvis. It was disgusting, pain crackling through her body at the triple penetration even as her vagina wettened from the heat. But at least it couldn’t get any worse.

“What are you boys waiting for? An invitation?! Fuck the bitch!”

Pyrrha’s heart sank. She should have learned by now. Things could always get worse.

The mob charged over her, more hands pawing and grabbing at her flesh than she had ever imagined, hard, rigid cocks pressing against every scrap of her smooth skin. One convict grabbed her full breasts and sandwiched his dick between her creamy orbs, his thumbs pressing into her nipples as the phallus was pulled back and forth. Two more latched onto their feet and dragged their cocks against the soles of her feet, the rigid rods swabbing themselves from her trembling ankles to her wiggling toes. Another pair shoved themselves into her palms and forcibly closed her fingers around them, using her nimble, moisturized fingers to stroke themselves off.

No bit of her body, no matter how small, was spared. Her elbows, her stomach, her knees, nothing was spared from having the mob frantically saw their dicks across it. Some of the huntsmen even pulled her red hair tight and wrapped her scarlet locks around their rods.

Tears flooded down Pyrrha’s face, but that was hardly new. She was pawed, and groped, and abused across ever hole and body part she had, time stretching on as the assault seemed to never end. She thought that the guards would swarm in eventually, at least to punish the inmates if not to save her.

But no. As the huntsman in her mouth plunged his cock down her gullet, Pyrrha recognized what she was now, to the rest of the world, at least. She was the same as all these men, not a respected huntress, but a dirty criminal slut. She hadn’t been convicted yet, but the kingdoms already thought of her as property, doomed to pay for her crimes. And no one cared if property abused property.

The convict in her mouth gripped her skull and rammed her lips down to his balls, his cock unloading a deluge of molten spunk down her throat. For whatever reason, that seemed to be the signal for the rest of the mob to pull back their dicks and unleash a veritable torrent of semen onto their victim. By the time Pyrrha’s pussy finally gave out under her constant fingering and clenched tight around the inmate’s knuckle, drowning the nail in her orgasm, the Mistral Champion had been coated in a thick layer of sticky white cum, from her feet, to her thighs, to her stomach, to her breasts, to her arms, to her face, and her long red mane.

The ringleader removed his fingers from Pyrrha’s holes and smirked, the mob cackling as they readied to continue their attack, but a single loud _clang_ stopped them in their tracks.

The group, still holding Pyrrha aloft, turned and looked at the cell door. The policewoman who’d escorted the arrested huntress-in-training inside had put down her scroll and entered the cell block, having apparently smacked the bars with an umbrella (where had she gotten that from?) to get everyone’s attention.

She clapped her hands and made a pair of dismissive ‘shooing’ motions. The inmates cackled, some even taking aggressive steps towards the short woman.

Then the woman smiled and raised her umbrella. The convicts _immediately_ stopped laughing. They set Pyrrha down on the floor and rushed back into their cells, which slammed shut as soon as they entered.

As for Pyrrha herself, she was too spent from her ordeal to do much of anything. She didn’t resist when the policewoman flipped her onto her stomach, pulled her arms behind her back, and slapped handcuffs onto her wrists once more. From there, a pair of prison guards came in and wrenched the arrested champion to her feet, dragging her away to be washed and officially processed as an inmate.

The pink and brown-eyed woman blew her a kiss as she was hauled off to her fate.

* * *

Mrs. Arc grinned at the video Neo had sent her, watching the crowd of inmates turn the Nikos slut into a filthy cum rag.

This wasn’t exactly what she’d had in mind when she’d tasked Neo with her extra assignment, but she could hardly complain. In addition to framing Ms. Nikos for the ring theft, the mob boss had requested the multicolored hellion to find some way to motivate her son into becoming… should she say, a bit looser in his morals. She wanted him to join the family business eventually and he couldn’t do that if he still clung to his ideals of heroism and such.

So Neo had facilitated his partner’s little encounter with a mob of convicted huntsmen set to be sold into slavery, with nothing to lose, and then shown Jaune the video of the event. June was pleased to say that none of those men had made it to market. Each and every one of them had run into a knife ten times. A very large knife. Just about the size of Crocea Mors.

It had cost Vale a pretty lien, but June could care less. Her baby boy had made his first kills! He was growing up so fast!

Big Miss Malachite flicked through her scroll to the Vale News Network site, sighing wistfully as Pyrrha’s mugshots completely dominated the front page, the headline reading _‘Sanctum Slut Sentenced to Slavery!’_

Soon. Grandbabies would be hers so very soon.

* * *

“Pyrrha Nikos! The people of Vale have found you _guilty_ on all charges! This court hereby sentences you to a lifetime of slavery! The arresting officer has accepted the right of first claim and optioned to take you on as his personal property. Take her away!”

Pyrrha sniffled at the memory of her trial, of the courtroom crowd hailing down condemnations on her as the judge pronounced her sentence, of the cheering when she was bent over the defendant’s desk and had her slave collar officially locked around her neck. Then, the newly convicted woman was wrenched to her feet and hauled back to prison.

She’d languished in her cell for a few days now, laying atop her cot in her skintight orange prison jumpsuit, her prisoner number stitched into the breast. Her hands remained cuffed behind her back while a bright red ballgag was lodged in her mouth, drool dribbling around her lips as she sucked on the rubber sphere. All that was fairly standard for a convicted slave, but Pyrrha had noticed one detail that confused her. When the guards had returned her uniform to her after stripping her down and injecting her with her criminal tracker chips, they’d included the brown high heel boots from her combat outfit, which she wore presently. Of course, the guards also added a leash to her collar, so it was safe to say they weren’t doing it for kindness’ sake.

No one was kind to Pyrrha anymore. The police’s promise to continue the investigation had ultimately come to nothing, both the lieutenant and his detective denouncing her when called to the stand during her trial. Her legions of fans, once so eager to put her on a pedestal, now took pleasure in saying they’d known she was a no good tart from the beginning, a minx who needed to be put in her place instead of flaunting her body. The Mistral Champion had never particularly tried to seem sexy, but she doubted anyone cared what she had to say anymore.

“Up and at’em, Inmate 39652!” the warden’s booming voice shouted, his heavy footsteps rapidly approaching. “Come on, Ms. Nikos! On your feet! Today’s the day you start paying your debt to society, you Mistralian whore!”

Pyrrha gulped and rose to her feet. She’d already learned what the punishment was for disobedient convicts. She stood in the middle of her cell, her handcuffed wrists clearly visible from the door. Soon the warden appeared in front of her cell bars, along with…

“I suspect you’ll want to break the convict in yourself, Mr. Arc, so I’ll leave you to it. There are zippers over her goodies if you want to have her in the uniform.”

Jaune, uncharacteristically stone-faced with Crocea Mors at his hip, nodded. “Thank you, warden.”

“Enjoy yourself, son. There’s nothing quite like fucking a criminal slut you arrested yourself. It’s a big moment for any man.”

The warden strode away to give them privacy. Jaune unlocked the cell and slipped inside the barred door.

Pyrrha could hardly believe it. Well, intellectually she’d known it, the judge had announced that her arresting officer had accepted the right of first claim, agreed to have her be his slave and Jaune had been the one to slip handcuffs around her wrists back in the interrogation room… was it really only a few days ago? Had she been a free woman, a huntress-in-training, only a few days ago?

She had to have been, because her old partner was here to pick up his slave.

Jaune’s eyes glanced up and down her body, his gaze drinking in her many, voluptuous curves, only emphasized by her orange prison jumpsuit. Despite herself, Pyrrha couldn’t help but feel an embarrassed warmth growing in her cunt. In her mind, she sarcastically noted that if she knew this was all it took to get her crush to look at her like that, she might have actually committed a crime.

“They gave you your heels back like I told them to. Good,” Jaune muttered. “You were always beautiful, but you’re stunning with them on.”

Pyrrha tilted her head away and blushed. She couldn’t help herself. Despite the horrid circumstances, this was everything she had wanted for months.

“Now then,” Jaune said, his eyes hardening into azure stone. “Up against the wall, inmate.”

The Mistral Champion gulped around her ballgag, recognizing what was most likely to come, but she obeyed without delay. Pyrrha strode over to the wall, her high heels clicking across the rough floor, and leaned into the stone, her face and breasts pressed into the cold surface.

Jaune followed her over, one of his hand clutching her bound wrists. He leaned into her side, his hot breath tickling her earlobe. “It’s strange. The first time I ever realized exactly how gorgeous you are is when I was arresting you. Putting those handcuffs on your arms, holding complete power over you, I wanted to bend you over the table and fuck your brains out right there.”

The heat in Pyrrha’s vagina was growing to a raging inferno with each word out of Jaune’s mouth. Her thighs squished together, rubbing vigorously as she attempted to keep her slip juices from slipping out of her quim. How could this nightmare she found herself in have mixed so strangely with her dreams?

“Unfortunately, you also lied to me that day,” Jaune whispered. “And I can’t allow that to go unpunished, you criminal slut.”

He pulled the sheathed Crocea Mors from his belt, angled the flat of the sheath towards Pyrrha, and brought it down hard on her bum, spanking the former champion like a back-alley tramp.

Pyrrha’s vivid emerald eyes nearly exploded out of her sockets at the impact, the stinging sensation ringing through her nerves as her plump derriere jiggled from the strike. The redheaded woman didn’t have any time to recover before Jaune rained down a relentless rain of steel smacks to behind, her butt cheeks trembling within her orange prison jumpsuit.

“You lied to me, Pyrrha,” Jaune growled, a single tear trickling down the side of his face. “You told me you were innocent when you weren’t. I saw the security footage! I know it was you!”

Ah, yes, the security footage. Pyrrha knew she didn’t steal the ring, but the prosecution had somehow presented security footage from the shop that showed the item exiting the case on its own, and seemingly floating through midair into her waiting hand. She’d tried to reveal the truth, that she’d never even heard of the shop before, but with her semblance revealed to be Polarity from her Beacon registration, the jury hadn’t believed her and the judge had added ‘lying under oath’ to the list of charges against her, and people had come out of the woodwork to accuse her of unsolved thefts where the missing objects had flown away. In the eyes of the public, that security footage had been the damning evidence that had convinced even her most ardent supporters that she was nothing but a thieving whore.

Even, it seemed, her beloved partner.

Yet, for some reason, while the framing was still painful, it wasn’t nearly as horrible as it had felt just a day ago. Pyrrha didn’t understand why, even as she felt her folds churn out gallons of fluid and tremble with each spank from Crocea Mors’s sheath. Whenever she’d envisioned her and Jaune becoming a couple, it had usually been them fighting the Grimm side-by-side or sharing a quiet candlelit dinner. Even at their most… instinctual, at the dance, when she’d fantasized about him ramming her against the wall, tearing off her gown, and… well, the expected, they’d always been equals in the act. And he hadn’t hated her for something she hadn’t done.

But as he continued to spank her like a disobedient school girl, and as each smack stirred up new arousal within her, she couldn’t deny there was _an_ appeal to the situation, even if it was a horrifyingly twisted one. Still, she needed to tell him the truth. She couldn’t let him hate her.

In time, he finally stopped smacking her rear end and reattached Crocea Mors to his belt. He raised his hand from her handcuffed wrists to the leash of her collar, while the other one went up to the strap of her red ballgag. With a nimble grace, he unlocked the strap and removed the drool coated orb.

Pyrrha swallowed, smacking her lips together to make sure this was real. Then, she dared to turn her head just a fraction to catch a glimpse of him. “Jau—”

The blond huntsman’s eyes turned cold. He wrapped her leash around his palm and _yanked_ the cord back. Pyrrha’s collar tightened around her throat, the redheaded woman gasping for air as she was choked.

“By law, you are not allowed to address me by my name anymore. That is something neither you, nor I can change,” Jaune reminded her. “I am not your partner anymore. Not your teammate, or even your leader. I am your _master_. You are my property. Understand?”

Pyrrha, her face growing paler by the second, nodded. Jaune loosened his grip on the leash, only her to breathe easier.

“Say it,” he commanded.

“Thank you,” Pyrrha gasped, her eyes clenching in dread. “Thank you, _master_.”

Jaune reached up and threaded his fingers through her scarlet locks. Pyrrha preemptively flinched as her head was turned towards him, expecting him to pull back and punish his hated ex-partner even more.

She did not expect to be kissed.

Pyrrha’s eyes widened for a moment, Jaune’s soft lips seeking out and pressing into her own. Even still, it wasn’t a brutal, demanding thing like she faintly recalled being sporadically cursed with when she’d been thrown to the mob of prisoners. No, this was a gentle kiss, warm, wet, and filled with love, and the convicted woman found herself melting into it. When her master’s tongue poked at her lips, she opened up and allowed the slimy serpent to slip inside and wrestle her own pink muscle into submission, dominating her utterly and completely.

After days off being abused, demeaned, and ravaged by convicts, it was, in a word, _heavenly_.

Eventually, when she started to run short on air, Jaune pulled away, leaving Pyrrha to gaze straight into her eyes, now returned to their soft, oceanic glimmer.

“I don’t hold it against you, Pyrrha. I haven’t forgotten everything you’ve done for me, and I will always be grateful. And those guys who hurt you, they’ll _never_ touch you again, I promise,” he softly assured her, his palm caressing her smooth cheek. “I know you only stole the ring because you panicked, because you were worried about your mom. That doesn’t make you a bad person, it just means you made a mistake. But the law is the law, and that makes you a criminal. My slave. If you’re well behaved, I won’t have to discipline you. I don’t want to. But I will if I have to.”

Bells chimed in Pyrrha’s mind. He didn’t hate her! He didn’t believe she was innocent, but he didn’t hate her! And given that there wasn’t a person who’d seen that security footage that didn’t think she was guilty, she could hardly hold that against him.

She… she needed to accept reality. Whoever had framed her for this, they had gotten away with it. There were no other suspects and she had been arrested, tried, and convicted of the crimes. _Her_ crimes. She would never be a huntress. Her old life was over.

But that didn’t mean her new life couldn’t be… pleasurable.

“I understand, master,” she shuddered, her thighs barely containing her pussy’s gushing bounty. “Please, punish this filthy criminal slut however you see fit.”

“Any way I see fit, huh…” Jaune murmured. A wolfish smirk spread over his face that made Pyrrha’s loins quiver. “Face the wall, inmate. Spread your legs.”

“Yes, master.”

Pyrrha turned her head back to the wall and pressed her face into the cold stone. Jaune’s foot tapped the inside of her calves, and she spread her legs a good distance apart, her combat heels’ steps echoing throughout the cell. The convicted huntress-in-training was ready to truly begin her sentence.

Jaune fingers slipped down to her privates and undid the zipper stitched into her prison uniform. As soon as the orange fabric opened, a deluge of her clear, sticky juices poured out and over her master’s fingers.

Pyrrha’s cheeks went red from embarrassment, but Jaune just smiled. He raised his fingers to his lips and licked cum off, tasting her cunt before undoing his own fly and poking his huge bulbous tip at her entrance.

Her master gripped her handcuffed wrists like reins, yanked back, and impaled her all the way down to his balls.

The Mistral Champion orgasmed immediately, a high-pitch squeal bursting free from her lips as her tongue lulled out of her mouth and her eyes rolled back in her head. She couldn’t help it! Jaune was at least twice the size of any of the prisoner mob and he drove into her running. His pelvis clapped against her asscheeks a dozen times a second, pistoning in and out of her flooding pussy like a machine. Pyrrha found herself smacked into the wall she was pinned against, faint flashes of pain lighting up her skin as euphoria dominated her nerves.

That was the word for it, domination. Jaune was not soft with her, he was rough, and brutal, and without restraint. In theory, it was just like what the prisoner mob had done to her, and she shouldn’t have enjoyed it any more than she had them, but she _did_. Those convicts, those beasts, they’d been a like a pack of wild animals, snapping for scraps, pathetic, lame, weak. Jaune wasn’t weak. He was the jockey breaking in his wild mare, her. And she needed to be broken in, shown her new place in society as his breeding slave.

“Fuck me, master! Fuck me harder!” Pyrrha screamed, basking in the ecstasy as his cock sawed through her cunt’s soaking folds and pilfered her womb, orgasm after orgasm tearing through her body. “Fuck me like I deserve to be fucked!”

“Oh?” Jaune playfully queried. “And how do you deserve to be fucked, ‘Ms. Nikos’? I thought you didn’t like being put on a pedestal.”

“Fuck the pedestal!” Pyrrha howled, sweat pouring down her creamy skin as her breasts squeezed against the cell wall. “I’m Convict 39652! I’m a thieving whore! A dirty criminal slut that needs to pay for her crimes!”

“Little late for a confession, but I’ll take it,” Jaune laughed. “Now then, 39652. It’s your last night at Vale Huntress Correctional. Might as well make use of the cell.”

Without removing himself from her gushing quim, Jaune tore her off the wall, marched her over to her cot, and slammed her stomach down onto the bed. His hand grasped over the back of her head and pressed her face into the hard surface.

Pyrrha let out a throaty moan, pleasure surging through her body as her master fucked her doggystyle, his rod tearing across her pussy’s folds as even her prison uniform began to shine with sweat. The former champion’s mouth hung open, drool dribbling out of her lips and pooling in a rippling puddle by her chin.

“You know,” Jaune mused. “My mom’s been dropping _a lot_ of hints about wanting grandkids. And I’d be perfectly within my rights to—”

“Yes! Do it!” Pyrrha begged. “Please, master! I’m prime breeding stock! Pump this convicted whore full of your seed! Impregnate me and let me give the world a future huntress who’ll actually obey the law! Please, master! Knock me up and let me carry your child!”

“… well, okay then.”

Jaune pounded her like a jackhammer, doubling his already lightning speed and plowing through her cervix with each thrust. Pyrrha’s face warped into a breathless ahegao, wordless moans emanating from her mouth as her mind was overloaded by her master’s ministrations. At last, he gripped her handcuffed hands tight and wrenched them towards him, curling the criminal slut’s back upward and allowing him to snuggly hilt his cock deep in her clenching pussy.

Pyrrha howled to the ceiling as her master’s seed flooded into her cunt, the molten tide of semen rushing over her folds and flooding her womb to the brim. The warmth, the feeling that had been building within her since her arrest, finally exploded in the depths of her pussy, slamming the convicted huntress over the edge and setting off a calamitous cascade of orgasms across her nerves. Her eggs, her future children, felt like they’d all been drowned in strong, virile cream, even if the convicted whore knew that only one could be fertilized at once.

Jaune finally pulled out of her, his pale, sticky creampie peeking out of her soaked, glistening quim. A bead of rich cum dribbled within her prison uniform, its wetness clinging to the former champion’s smooth, pale skin. She tried to stand, but with her muscles drunk with ecstasy and her arms still bound, the former champion tumbled out of the cot, splayed out on the floor of the cell like a broken doll.

“Don’t get lazy on me now, Pyrrha. We’re just getting started,” her master chided. He presented his massive cock, soaked in both their juices. “Clean it up, you Mistralian slut.”

Pyrrha staggered to her feet and shot the man who’d arrested her a loving smile. She extended her sopping wet tongue and bathed his rigid dick in dozens of long lascivious licks. Her bright green eyes fluttered, and she moaned in contentment as the warm, salty taste of cum poured down her throat.

Truly, she had such a generous master, a man who would bless a thieving criminal whore like her with his thick, bulging cock.

She spent her last night behind bars pressed up against the bars of her cell, loudly confessing her guilt to all who could hear.

* * *

“So, Ms. Nikos, are you ready to talk? Or should I say, Red Widow?”

“Yes! Oh, yes, Mr. Arc! I’ll talk! I’ll tell you everything!”

“Really? Mistral’s finest spy would betray her kingdom so easily?”

“My kingdom means nothing! Just keeping fucking me! Fuck my whorish Mistralian ass— _aaaahhhhh!!!_ ”

June Arc grinned as she spied on her son and his breeding slave in his room, having fun roleplaying some Spruce Willis espionage thriller. Her plan had turned out just as she’d hoped.

Ms. Nikos’ hands were shackled above her to chains hanging down from the ceil, the rest of her body naked save for her slave collar and a black blindfold wrapped around her eyes. Her beautiful mane of scarlet locks was contained in a long ponytail that fell down to her waist. Below that, Jaune’s cock was currently ramming in and out of her asshole, his palms busily fondling her bust, pinching and flicking her erect pink breasts. Breasts that had swelled a bit in size since the criminal slut had been brought to the Arc household.

The answer to why they had done so was easily visible just above her waist: a slight, two-month-old, baby bump.

Big Miss Malachite grinned as she closed her son’s door, pleasantly whistling as she skipped down the hall. Ms. Nikos couldn’t reveal Jaune’s fake transcripts now even if she remembered such a puny detail, and soon she would give birth to June’s second adorable grandchild. She loved Adrian dearly, but Saphron and Terra refused to leave the latter’s work in Argus, so she never got to see the precious baby. Meanwhile, ever since some maniac had unleashed Grimm into Vale during the Vytal Festival, Headmaster Ozpin had sent all the students home, so Jaune and his bombshell breeding bitch would be around the house for quite a bit. Which was perfectly fine with her.

In fact, now that she’d met dear Pyrrha in person, and gotten a look at just how spectacular her body was, she thought it was a shame that the Nikos line didn’t have more intersection with her own family. Her husband certainly couldn’t have a turn with Pyrrha, it was simply wrong for a father to use his son’s breeding slave, uncultured.

But his birthday was coming up… and there were rumors of Ms. Nikos’ mother embezzling funds from Sanctum Academy. June had no idea if there was any truth to such rumors or if they were just an unintended byproduct of her smear campaign against the woman’s daughter, but she truthfully didn’t care. The few photos she’d found of the woman showed a body similar to convicted spawn, only aged like fine wine and topped off with a pair of strikingly mature glasses.

Yes. Definitely something to prepare for her husband’s birthday. They could make date night so exciting with that red-haired woman between them.

June Malachite Arc hurried downstairs to make her family dinner, infinitely pleased to hear Pyrrha’s euphoric screams echo out behind her, the enslaved whore happier as a convicted criminal than she ever would have been as a huntress.

**Author's Note:**

> This story was a request from Michael_Mc_Doesntexist. I hope you all enjoyed it!
> 
> If you'd like to see any RWBY girl arrested and fucked, let me know. I plan to cycle through the cast eventually, but if you want to see certain girls taken certain ways, I'll move them up the list. Though, fair warning, as of this story's publication, I currently have eleven requests in line to complete first. But if you have anyone in mind, it never hurts to get your pick's spot in the queue reserved!
> 
> The current list is:  
> \- Yang  
> \- Glynda  
> \- Summer  
> \- Sequel to Coco & Velvet with Arslan, and Reese  
> \- Carmine  
> \- Blake (this may be made as a second chapter in my Kali story, still making a final decision on that)  
> \- Harriet and Elm  
> \- Fiona  
> \- Blake and Jaune roleplay  
> \- Willow  
> \- Weiss  
> \- A Saphron and Terra Alternate ending (I will not be taking any for my other stories! This is a special case.)  
> \- Lisa Lavender


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